by Amber Jaeger
“I guess you were right,” I said, surprised. “Um, excuse me,” I started to say to the girl with basket. And then everything else died right on my lips.
She was my age although I had never seen her around my smallish town. She was pretty, athletic looking, with long blonde hair and large brown eyes. But what turned my mind totally blank were the bracelets on her wrists joined together with wispy chains.
I could feel my jaw drop and slowly open as my eyes traced them back the way my own chains went. The other girl was looking at me uncertainly but I could see the second she realized I could see the chains. Her own jaw dropped slowly open and her finger came up to point as she saw the chains dripping from my own bracelets.
“Who—” we both began, still staring at each other wrists. And then she was gone. Like a mean owner of small dog owner does, whatever was at the end of her chain gave a mighty jerk and the girl was skipped off her feet and out of sight.
I gave a startled cry and reached my hand out as if stop what had already happened. Several heads snapped my way to stare but not one person had seen this girl be jerked out of existence.
“Grandma,” I wheezed, when I could somewhat get my breath back. “Did you see that?”
She looked at me blandly. “Popcorn.”
“What about the girl you just saw? With the broccoli?”
“Popcorn,” she repeated.
I rubbed my wrists and squinted down the way my own smoke chains faded off. Could I disappear like that? And no one notice? Another thought, just as ugly, wiggled around in the back of my mind but I pushed it away.
“Let’s get some popcorn then get out of here, okay?” I said.
We continued to get a few odd stares until we were back in the car. And then Grandma started in again. “Broccoli,” she said.
“Yes!” I practically shouted. “The girl with the broccoli, you saw her?”
Grandma cocked her head and just stared at me.
I hated her Alzheimer’s. She had always been so easy to talk to but the disease had stolen that and took more every day. I needed to know what she had seen and there was no way for her to tell me.
“Okay, grocery store it is,” I said with a sigh and pulled out of the parking lot.
We came home with way more groceries than we needed, mostly because I couldn’t concentrate on the shopping and Grandma took the liberty to throw whatever she wanted into the cart.
I stared at four crowns of broccoli and three whole rotisserie chickens on my counter, wondering what I was going to do with them. Grandma was happily rearranging the pantry, filling her purchases into the empty spaces she made. I was pretty sure she had picked out the boxes and cans at the store based on size and color. At least my dad was happy.
“Good,” he said, eyeballing the four boxes of sugary cereal. “I was wondering when you were going to stop buying all that shitty oatmeal.”
Lincoln was not as pleased. “What’s with all the beans?” he asked.
“Um,” I stalled, running through all the bizarre ingredients purchased. “White chicken chili for lunch?”
“Oh, that’s good. I’ll be back in an hour.”
“Where are you going?” I asked, grabbing my biggest pot.
“Nowhere!” he said, grabbing his keys and running out the door.
I rolled my eyes. “Nowhere,” I mimicked quietly. “Just out to do something awesome on a Saturday while you cook and clean and babysit Grandma.”
I looked up guiltily to make sure she didn’t hear me, which of course she didn’t with her head still shoved in the pantry.
“Hey, Grandma, come help me shred up this chicken,” I asked, sitting down at the table. Her obsessive focus on the mundane actually made her awesome at de-boning chickens, something I wasn’t a huge fan of.
As we sat quietly, going at our mindless task, the icky little thought I had pushed away earlier came wiggling back up. I had no idea who the other girl was but it was pretty obvious who was on the other end of the chain.
Jordan.
How many girls like me were there?
I had thought I was the only one but I had never asked. And if he could hide me from his uncle, he could hide any other number of girls.
Granted, I still wasn’t exactly clear on what our little arrangement consisted of but I had thought it was more than me just being a glorified tutor, especially after last night.
My face heated as I thought about the things that he had said and done. I liked him, and I thought he liked me. But if I was just one of many … My face flamed with embarrassment. And hurt. He was the one who had offered to help me. He was the one that had been watching me. He kissed me and said he loved me. It wasn’t like I was just some lovesick girl throwing herself at some hot guy.
Except that I pretty much was. And based on my experiences in the real world, hot guys tended to be happier with more than one lovesick girl throwing themselves at them.
I started shredding my chicken with more force than necessary, little slivers of meat flinging all over the table.
Grandma was looking at me curiously but there was no way I was going to explain what was wrong, even if she would have gotten it. I didn’t even get it.
I savagely opened cans of beans and chili and dumped them into the pot, slamming the empty cans in the sink to be rinsed and recycled. I wished more than anything I could go to sleep that night and not have to see Jordan, that I could somehow avoid him, snub him.
But even my limited, well, nonexistent, boy experience told me that hiding in the fortress until I woke up would just be childish and probably wouldn’t bother his overblown man ego at all.
Fine. He wanted some sort of geography and social studies tutor from another world, that’s what he was going to get. And nothing more. Let the other girl, or girls, flirt with him and make themselves look stupid.
The tears in my eyes were from the onions I was chopping. Because I definitely wasn’t hurt by some dream guy I didn’t even really know. That would be a pretty stupid girl move and I wasn’t dumb enough for that.
I also didn’t have the time, I reminded myself, trying to gather up my dignity.
The rest of the stuff for the chili went in the pot and I set about making homemade cinnamon rolls. Grandma was content to go back to arranging the pantry after getting her hands washed, leaving me free to sweep, mop, shake out rugs and vacuum. I took the garbage out before the chicken carcass could start to smell and caught a glimpse of my dad in the garage, sitting on a stool, watching some sport event on the crappy little TV in there.
My resentment towards boys boiled over a little at the sight of that. He wasn’t cooking or cleaning or watching Grandma. And neither was Linc. And they wouldn’t be doing it the next day or the next week or the next year. I would be.
I kept my Cinderella pity party going up until lunch, but it was hard to stay mad at the guys who went back twice for my chili and three times for my cinnamon rolls. I managed to keep my resentment to a simmer when they left me to put Grandma down for a nap and clean up the dishes.
Linc interrupted my glaring out the window over the sink with an unsubtle cough.
“So …,” Linc crooned. “I have a surprise for you.”
“You’re going to help me with the dishes?” I deadpanned.
“What? Oh, I guess,” he said, his grin deflating a bit. Reluctantly he picked up a rag to dry with. “So what are you doing on tonight? Reading? The usual?”
“I guess.”
“No you’re not! You’re going to the Harvest Moon Dance!”
That was the last thing I expected, or wanted, to hear and it must have shown.
Linc’s hands flew up as if to stop me from protesting. “Now, before you say anything, I know you think dances are stupid and a waste of time and you don’t have anything to wear or anyone to go with or blah blah blah.”
That was pretty much every excuse I had ever given him to get out of going.
“So I took care of it all: date, dress, every
thing.”
I nearly choked. “A date? Wait, a dress? How do you even know what size I wear?” How did Jordan, for that matter?
Linc shrugged, looking totally pleased with himself. “I looked in your closet to see what size you wear then borrowed a dress after I figured out who wears the same size.”
I was horrified but also a little impressed. “And who did you get to tell you her dress size?”
“Celia.”
I groaned and tossed my wet dish rag at him. “Celia? You mean slutty Celia? I can see the top of her bra and thong in every outfit she wears!”
“I already saw the dress, it’s fine,” he said, his face getting red.”Don’t you want to know who your date is?” he asked, trying to change the subject.
I thought hard for a minute then blurted out with obvious relief, “I can’t go, I’m grounded.”
Linc’s huge grin was back.”Nope, I already cleared it with Dad. And Brent can’t wait to take you.”
“Brent?” I asked. Why had Lincoln picked him, of all people? I prayed it wasn’t the reason I feared it was.
“Oh, come on Bixby, you spent all last year making googly-eyes at him.”
My face flamed, knowing I had been so transparent.”Linc,” I started to protest.
“Bixby, don’t say no, you deserve to have some fun.”
I didn’t want to hurt Linc’s feelings when he had gone to so much trouble but I really, really didn’t want to go to the dance.”Can I think about it?”
“No,” he chirped, his grin megawatt.”We’re leaving at eight.”
Unhappy, I finished the dishes by myself and invented reasons why I couldn’t attend the dance. It wasn’t that I didn’t like music or dancing, it was that I didn’t like standing in the corner by myself.
I spent the remainder of my afternoon trying to get out of going.
Finally Linc cut me off with,”Please, Bixby, let me do something nice for you.”
The fact that I didn’t think it was nice wasn’t as important as the fact that he thought it was.
I finally relented and went to sulk over my defeat in the shower.
Hanging in my room when I got back was a black velvet dress I couldn’t believe Celia owned. For one, it went all the way to the knees and had three quarter sleeves and a high, scooped neck. Turning it around I saw the deep V down the back and thought, “That’s a little more like her.”
I blew my hair out straight and down my back to try to cover up a bit. It was coppery, shiny, and big—the opposite of what it had been weeks ago.
Makeup wasn’t an option seeing as I didn’t actually own any but inspecting my face I could see I didn’t really need it. I pushed my bangs in my face, found a pair of crimson ballet slippers in the back of my closed and headed downstairs.
Grandma sat on the couch, happily munching popcorn and watching an old black and white movie.
“You think Dad will be okay with her while we’re gone?”
“Yes, fine, let’s go!” Linc said, rushing me to the front door.
“Who’s your date?” I asked, suddenly curious.
“Kate,” he said with an impish grin.”Pretty awesome, huh?”
“Pretty awesome,” I repeated hollowly.
Chapter 14
WE PICKED HER UP FIRST and she didn’t even acknowledge my presence. Not that I expected her to but I was a little annoyed Linc was so taken with her low-cut dress he didn’t even seem to notice. I was relieved to be kicked into the backseat—until we picked up Brent.
“Hey,” he said stupidly, squinting at me in the car’s harsh interior light.”Looking good.”
“Thanks,” I mumbled.
“No, really,” he said, slamming the door and sliding all the way over into the middle seat.”You should have started wearing makeup a long time ago!”
I squeezed closer to my door, only to have him move over more.I tried to catch Linc’s eye in the rearview mirror but the angle was wrong.
Brent grabbed a lock of my hair.”I like it better this color too. Hell,” he said,”if you had taken this good a care of yourself last year I might have given you a chance!”
My face flamed with anger and embarrassment. This was the guy I had mooned over last year to apparently everyone’s knowledge? Granted, I had never actually spoken to him and had no idea he was a total jerk.
He squeezed closer and closer until he was practically sitting in my lap. When Lincoln finally pulled into a parking spot I jumped out of the car before it was fully stopped. With a crushing despair, I realized he had pulled into a space in front of a nice restaurant with a reception hall above and I was going to be subjected not only to the dance but dinner.
The waiter led us to a candle lit table set for four. Kate glared at me. “Well isn’t this nice, we get to all have dinner together.” Brent rolled his eyes and jerked out the chair in front of him and plopped down.
The waiter passed around menus and Brent leaned over to tell me, “You can order anything you want but try to keep it around ten bucks.” It was my turn to roll eyes.
“Separate check,” I told the waiter, pointing to myself.
Linc shook his head at me but I just buried my head in the menu.
Kate ordered side salad and sniffed when I ordered lasagna. I prayed for the night to be over.
Lincoln cleared his throat. “So, you guys have biology together, right?” he asked Kate.
She gave him a fake little smile. “Ugh, I don’t want to talk about school tonight. I want to talk about you and me.” He flushed a little at that.
“Hey man, what’s the score on the game?” Brent shouted to some guys from our school two tables over. Annoyed patrons glared at him but he didn’t even notice as he carried on a ten decibel conversation across the room.
Kate simpered and played with her hair and accidently rubbed her feet against mine. I sat rigidly and kept praying for the dance to hurry up and be over with. My night with Jordan had been confusing, my day at home had been a nightmare and the evening was shaping up to be the same. I glanced at the clock on the wall and realized within a few hours I would have to deal with Jordan again. My head began to throb and I focused on the melting ice in my glass.
Brent got up and went to over to the other guys’ table to keep talking sports and I sat, totally ignored by everyone.
“Excuse me,” I finally said to no one and went to find the bathroom.
As I washed my hands, I examined my hair and face. I expected my face to be pinched and my cheeks to be a fiery red—how my face usually looked when I was angry or annoyed. But my cheeks were no more than rosy and my skin was smooth. My hair was still lying as nicely as it had been when I had fixed it. I sadly wondered how much different I was going to end up looking. Awake and asleep, my life was filled with so many problems a professional couldn’t have juggled them all. I lingered at the sink, trying to roll all my issues into one manageable ball.
Determined to act normal, I put on a smile and left the bathroom. Lincoln grabbed my arm outside the door and swung me around. “Bixby, what are you doing?” he asked.
“I had to pee,” I snapped, jerking my arm back.
“No, I mean, why aren’t you having a good time?” he asked.
I felt my jaw fall open.”Are you kidding me? Your date is the Queen of Bitches and won’t even acknowledge my presence and Brent is either talking sports to the other oafs or telling me how much better I look with makeup on.”
“Well, you do look nice. And you haven’t said anything to Kate either,” he countered.
“He’s not saying I look nice. And why should I play nice with her? She’s been trying to make my life hell since kindergarten.”
Lincoln’s jaw clenched and bulged.”Bixby, please, why do you have to make things difficult? Why do you think my friends don’t like you? Maybe they think you’re the bitch.”
I recoiled from him, my eyes stinging.”Why? Because I don’t spend hours focused on my hair and my face and my clothes with the other girls
or slut it up with all the guys like they do? News flash, Lincoln—even if I wanted to, I have never had the time!”
A girl with curious eyes eased around us to get in the bathroom and I could see the fight draining out of Linc.”Let’s not do this here,” he muttered.
“You started it,” I insisted.”Your friends don’t like me and I don’t like them and I don’t fit in here. I’m glad you got to be Mr. Popular but I’m the one who’s had to keep the house clean and put dinner on the table and keep Grandma safe. You never had a problem with how things worked before, what is the problem now?”
“Bixby, please,” he begged.”Can we just go back to the table and have a good time?”
I stared at him for a minute then gave a tiny nod. I wasn’t going to be the girl that spent the dance in the bathroom crying, especially not when it was my brother that had hurt my feelings.
I blinked away any trace of tears and slid back into my seat at the table. “So Kate,” I said, trying to keep any trace of iciness out of my voice, “how’s everything with you?”
Linc look relieved I was attempting to play nice but Kate just gave me a look and excused herself to the bathroom.
“Bixby,” Linc started but Brent came back to the table and slid his chair closer to mine. He put his hand on my neck under my hair and said to Lincoln with an exaggerated wink,”Can’t wait to get your sister upstairs for some slow dancing.”
Brent’s steak kept his hands busy for the remainder of the dinner and every time I attempted to start any conversation with Kate she just shoved more salad in her mouth. All of the couples that stopped at the table to say hello pointedly didn’t include me. From the corner of my eye I could see Linc’s face getting redder and more apologetic with each minute. He tried to catch my attention over and over but I couldn’t bring myself to look at him. “I’m the bitch, huh?” I kept thinking to myself.
I counted down the minutes until we could go upstairs and I could hide in the relative darkness. But I didn’t get a foot away from the top step when Brent grabbed my hand and led me out to the dance floor.
